


Be Here Now

by Exaggerated_Specificity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Sam, Come as Lube, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, POV Dean Winchester, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage, Season/Series 09, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:04:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaggerated_Specificity/pseuds/Exaggerated_Specificity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 9 has been an emotional roller coaster since the first episode.  I started writing this back when 09.01 aired and I just wanted some sweet brother fucking with Dean's emotional baggage being stripped away momentarily by a hungry Sammy.  There's mention of Ezekiel but he doesn't make an appearance in the fic so I didn't tag for him.  Dean's just thinking about the situation and Zeke waking up crosses his mind but it doesn't happen.  I have a serious love / hate relationship with this fic and I think it fucking sucks but maybe someone will enjoy it.  Sorry for the self deprecation!  I love you all.  X</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Here Now

**Author's Note:**

> The title is based on the song '[Be Here Now](http://youtu.be/Vl3V0dTRDvI)' by Ray LaMontagne
> 
> _Don't let your mind get weary and confused_  
>  Your will be still, don't try  
> Don't let your heart get heavy child  
> Inside you there's a strength that lies 
> 
> _Don't let your soul get lonely child_  
>  It's only time, it will go by  
> Don't look for love in faces, places  
> It's in you, that's where you'll find kindness 
> 
> _Be here now, here now  
>  Be here now, here now_
> 
> _Don't lose your faith in me_  
>  And I will try not to lose faith in you  
> Don't put your trust in walls  
> 'Cause walls will only crush you when they fall 
> 
> _Be here now, here now  
>  Be here now, here now _

“You want the first shower, man?” Dean asks as he chucks his duffel bag onto the bed closest to the door. He seriously considers just collapsing onto it, fully clothed. He was emotionally and physically exhausted and hadn’t had a decent night’s rest since sometime before the angels fell. Aside from a few hours of restless sleep in the uncomfortable chair at Sam’s hospital bedside, Dean had spent the better part of the past week running on nothing but adrenaline, black coffee, and furious desperation. He needs to shower, shave, and eat but it all seems like more trouble than it’s worth at the moment. Instead, he just stands motionless, caught between indecision and fatigue, staring blankly down at the dated floral pattern on the motel bed spread. Sam locks the door to their room and deposits his own bag on the other bed, eying Dean with concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Dean?” 

Just hearing Sam’s voice is somehow soothing but Dean is just so tired. He shuts his eyes and tilts his chin down, failing to reply to Sam’s question. His head feels too heavy for his neck and the words just don’t form. 

His thoughts reach like tendrils into the shadowed part of his consciousness, the part of him that understands how close he really came to losing Sam for good. Into the part of his mind that knows the choices he made to save Sam could tear them apart anyway. Dean is caught up telling yet another giant lie to Sam, something he promised himself he’d never do again. His stomach churns with the knowledge that Ezekiel is there lurking behind Sam’s eyes without his consent. It makes Dean feel lost and afraid despite Sam’s improving condition.  
“Dean…?” Sam’s hand makes contact with Dean’s shoulder, concern heavy in his voice. It takes every ounce of willpower Dean has left not to collapse back into his brother’s embrace and confess everything. Dean shakes his head in an attempt to gain some control over his emotional state, sliding his hand over Sam’s where it rests on his shoulder, warm and strong. He turns to look at Sam and forces a grin, still searching for the right words as his eyes make contact with the hazel-blue of his brother’s. 

Sam’s face is open, loving, and so fucking handsome it almost takes Dean’s breath away. Even though he’s still frail, Dean can tell he’s on the mend. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since Zeke moved in and Sam’s cheeks are looking fuller and the bags under his eyes are less severe than when they left the hospital. In those eyes Dean can see the stubborn, courageous, passionate boy he’s loved for as long as he can remember and he wants nothing more than to wrap himself around Sam and make deep, soulful love to him for a week straight. 

Dean searches Sam’s eyes for some sign of his secret angel passenger but Sam just smiles back, if a little wearily. Sam knows Dean is faking his grin and Dean knows he knows but they both maintain the façade, for now. Sam puts his free hand on Dean’s other shoulder, turning him so they are facing one another. 

“We could shower together…” Sam’s suggestion trails off and he tips his face down toward Dean’s so their foreheads are just barely touching. His hand moves from Dean’s shoulder up to his neck and slides his hand gently up to Dean’s face, caressing his stubbled cheek with his thumb before leaning in for a kiss. 

Dean almost pulls away in hesitation but Sam’s arms wrap around him before he can react. So much has happened, so much that Sam doesn’t even remember, but once Sam’s lips connect with Dean’s, the trepidation withers. It’s even easier than he remembered, being like this with Sam. They fit together like puzzle pieces and Dean’s body falls back into that easy rhythm as Sam softly kisses his lips. 

Jesus Christ, what about Ezekiel? Dean has no idea what level of consciousness the angel maintained while Sam was in control but he didn’t think about this possibility when he agreed to let Zeke ride shotgun in his brother’s head. Saving Sam was all he cared about at the time and it seemed like a lifetime since they had been intimate. In fact, they had only been together a few times since Dean returned from Purgatory. Once they had settled their differences, Sam’s body had been too ravaged by the trials for the physical act to be realistic. Now that Sam was feeling better it only made sense their relationship would find its way back to this, it always did, but the angel inside Sam had Dean more than just a little concerned. Castiel had always turned a willing blind eye to the true nature of Sam and Dean’s relationship but would Ezekiel even be willing to help them once he found out how deep their bond really went? 

Dean’s breath catches in his throat as Sam’s kisses deepen and his mind finally synchs up with his body. It was ridiculous. Sam was here, now. He had almost lost him and now Sam’s needy mouth was on his. Instead of just kissing back on autopilot, Dean wills himself to be present in the moment, enjoying this tenderness and letting himself relish the velvet of Sam’s tongue sweeping over his. With that thought, Dean shoves the worry from his sleep-starved mind and just lets it happen, kissing Sam back, hot and hungry, letting lust erase the sorrow, guilt, and trepidation that’s still surging under the surface. He clings to the lapels of Sam’s jacket like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. 

“Maybe we can have that shower later…” Sam cocks his eyebrow as he pulls back momentarily from their kiss. Dean nods and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he continues searching Sam’s eyes. Sam smiles sincerely while running his hands up and down Dean’s back, letting his long fingers tracing his aching muscles. Dean can’t help but kiss him again, grunting as their mouths connect.

He strokes up Sam’s sides, thumbing over his nipples, across the edge of his rib cage, and down to the jut of his hipbones where he reaches the waist of Sam’s low-slung jeans. Suddenly there are too many clothes and all Dean wants is to feel Sam’s skin against his – warm, alive, and flushed from his touch. Sam seems to feel the same need and he pulls back again, breathless, tugging on Dean’s belt loops as he steps back toward the bed. Dean lets Sam pull him as he hastily shrugs off his jacket and button-up, pulling his under shirt off over his head. Sam smiles wide as Dean presses him back into the mattress and steps between his splayed open thighs. He fumbles with Sam’s belt and kisses along his jaw line, letting the stubble there drag over his already kiss swollen lips.

“God, Sammy. It’s been so long. You sure you’re up for this?” Dean’s voice is deep and ragged. He doesn’t want to stop, his body is thrumming with need for his brother, but he’s concerned this is happening too quickly. Sam runs his hands up either side of Dean’s face and holds him there, just looking into his eyes. 

“It’s okay. You’re not gonna break me.” The fire shining there reassures Dean. All he sees is Sam, wanton and needy again like when he was as a teenager. Dean pushes aside his instinct to be careful as their lips connect again, taking that pretty pink mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. The need and love inside Dean swells to bursting as Sam groans and arches his back. It’s clear Sam is just as hungry and desperate to feel this as he is. He’s almost too rough as he kisses and nips along Sam’s collar bone, sliding his hand down the front of Sam’s boxer briefs. His fingers slip eagerly over the precome slicked tip of Sam’s erection and they groan in unison at the intimate touch. 

Dean sits back on his haunches to let Sam finish pulling off his clothes, shoving them and his duffle to the floor with a heavy thud. Dean slips his salt-glossed fingertips between his lips, stifling a moan as he tastes Sam’s essence for the first time in God knows how long. Sam tugs at the waistband of Dean’s boxers. 

“Why are these still on?” Sam lets the elastic snap back against Dean’s abdomen. It’s a good question, Dean springs into action. Sam scoots up to the headboard to give them more room on the queen-sized mattress, watching Dean hungrily as he shoves his boxers down. Sam’s hand is wrapped around his dick squeezing the base and biting his lip as Dean climbs back up between his long legs. 

“Why did I let you ask for two queens?” Sam asks wryly while Dean presses his lips to his throat. Dean kisses down his chest, pausing for a moment to answer. 

“Nah, it’s better this way, Sammy. We can get as filthy as we want and neither of us has to sleep in the wet spot.” 

Sam chuckles but Dean’s already tracing a path south, marking Sam’s skin with faint hickeys and bite marks. He bites into the soft skin of Sam’s hip before sitting back and pressing his brother’s legs apart even further. He smoothes his hands over the soft hairs on Sam’s thighs before rocking his pelvis forward, slotting himself firmly between them. Dean’s erection grinds against Sam’s fingers that are still wrapped tightly around his own cock. Sam gasps as he feels the weight of Dean’s hard on bumping his knuckles. 

“God, Dean. I’m not gonna last. Not like I want…” Sam’s breathless and his eyes are heavy-lidded. Too long apart, too much pain, sickness, and distraction – it’s making them both needy in a way they hadn’t been with one another in years. Dean claims Sam’s mouth again, licking away the concern, and pushes Sam’s hand away. 

“Shhh… it’s okay. I got you.” Dean reassures. “Let me take the edge off. We got all night.” He slides his dick alongside Sam’s and presses their bodies together. Precome and sweat slicking the way, Dean thrusts against Sam with intent. They hadn’t rubbed off on one another like this since they were teenagers but it feels fucking amazing, like there is electricity crackling in the sheen of moisture between them. 

Sam throws his head back into the pillow and his spine arches. God it’s good, watching Sam let go. He gasps before a hoarse, shuddering groan spills from his throat. Dean can almost see the wave of Sam’s orgasm wash over him, radiating up and out of his core. His fingers dig into Dean’s shoulders and his hips buck up sharply before he comes, hot and hard, between their bodies. 

“Fuck yeah. That’s it, Sammy. Good boy.” Dean growls into Sam’s neck. His come feels like liquid fire against Dean’s skin as he continues to rut against him. It was so quick and dirty, exactly what they both needed to wash away some of the darkness still clinging between them. Dean continues to stroke their cocks, nestled together in his come-slicked fist. He knows Sam is sensitive so he’s gentle and slow, loving the feel of Sam’s softening shaft slip-sliding along his own diamond-hard erection. Once Sam’s gone too soft and tender for Dean to continue, he rests back on his knees. He looks down at the mess on Sam’s stomach and drags his fingers through it, pushing Sam’s thigh back with his other hand. 

“Is this okay?” Dean asks as he slips his come slick fingers up Sam’s ass crack, swirling the tips over Sam’s flinching hole. Dean’s not sure Sam will be up for sex and the nagging fear of you-know-who waking up tugs at the edge of Dean’s consciousness as his fingers tease. He’s content enough to rub off against Sam’s leg if need be. 

Sam assuages Dean’s worry as he smiles and nods, tilting his hips up against Dean’s. Sam’s eyes are still glinting with need as he spreads his thighs, holding them open in invitation. Dean presses his index and middle fingers forward gently and feels Sam bear down against the pressure. It forces the pink ring of muscle to welcome the intrusion and his digits slide in to the first knuckle. 

“Fuck, so tight, Sam. Are you sure?” Dean’s voice is almost a whisper as he slips his hand over his cock, jacking it slowly to spread more of Sam’s come along his length. Sam’s hole is so snug as it clenches around Dean’s fingers, it doesn’t seem possible that his cock will fit.

“God, yes. Please.” Sam groans, wanting Dean’s fingers deeper. “Fuck, I need it.”

Dean’s cock twitches in his hand, weeping into his palm. He presses his fingers forward, come slick and twisting, remembering exactly how to open Sam up. He’s gentle, searching, and patient as Sam’s eyes slam shut with a groan. 

“That feel good?” Dean coos as the pads of his fingers glide over Sam’s prostate. 

“Fuck, yes. Don’t stop.” Sam’s hand wraps tightly around Dean’s wrist, wanting Dean to keep lavishing attention on that tender spot. Dean watches Sam grind on his hand, so needy and desperate to be full.

“You ready for another one?” 

Sam’s eyes flicker up over Dean’s face and he flashes that fox-like smile, nodding as he releases Dean’s wrist. Dean scissors his fingers, thrusting in and out of Sam a few more times before pulling out enough to add a third digit alongside the others. Sam hisses softly at the stretch but he chews his lips and holds the eye contact, egging Dean on. 

“Missed you so much.” God and Dean means it, seeing his brother like this, skin flushed and glistening with sweat, so hungry for him. 

With a little more patience, Dean has Sam stretched around three of his thick knuckles. Sam’s hips thrust in time with Dean’s movements and he’s groaning loudly each time Dean grazes his prostate. Sam’s cock rests spent against his stomach but it’s already twitching in interest again. 

"Gonna get it up for me again, baby?" Dean asks as he flicks his fingers rhythmically. 

Sam can't even answer the question, he just grinds against Dean's hand which is practically inside him. Dean licks his lips as he watches Sam’s thick erection filling again. His own orgasm is far from his thoughts. It’s all about Sammy right now, Dean giving him everything he has. 

“Fuck, Dean. Please. I need you inside me.” Sam’s words are breathy and punctuated by soft moans. Dean lifts Sam’s left thigh, coaxing him to turn onto his side. It takes a moment but Sam turns, smiling with the knowledge of how good this position is. 

Dean curls his fingers, giving Sam’s insides a few final strokes before gently slipping his hand out. He gathers up the last remnants of cooling come from Sam’s abdomen and spreads it over his loosened hole. He straddles Sam's right leg and lifts the other one a bit higher so he can slide his cock right up inside, as deep as he can get. 

Sam’s ready and releases a long, strangled sigh as Dean’s thick erection sinks in to the hilt. Dean savors every inch of the velvety slide before pausing to bathe in the feeling of Sam hot and quivering around him. It’s as if their heartbeats are in synch, Dean throbbing iron hard in the sweet embrace of Sam’s body. Dean closes his eyes, sighing in unison with Sam, his hands circling his brother’s waist as he breathes slowly and lets himself really feel. 

“So deep, Dean – fuck…” 

Dean’s cock throbs in Sam’s belly, leaking and begging him to thrust, but it’s just so damn good here like this – connected. Dean could die happy if this was the last thing he ever experienced. 

“Please, Dean. Fuck me…” Sam’s breathy plea makes Dean shudder. He clenches his thigh muscles and tilts forward a bit to rest some of his weight against Sam. He starts rocking his hips gently, shallow little thrusts that remind him how open, ready, and sloppy wet with come Sam’s hole is. Even though it felt like a velveteen vice around his cock while he was buried deep, Sam’s ass was a quivering, sopping mess, just begging to be fucked. Sam grabs his leg, lifting it higher for Dean as he starts thrusting harder. Sam’s other hand is on his cock, palming the dripping head and rubbing it in tune with Dean’s movements. 

“Yes, Dean… Please… Harder… Fuck!” Sam begs between gasps. He couldn’t help control the power or depths of Dean’s thrusts at this angle so he had to ask for what he needed and Dean fucking loved it. Dean runs his palm down Sam’s thigh, sliding his thumb over the curve of his ass cheek, tugging it open wider to watch his cock tugging at the rim while he slides in and out. 

The momentum builds and soon Dean isn’t even connecting mentally with the situation. He’s just a giant raw nerve bathing in the taste, smell, and feel of his gorgeous little brother. He hears his hips slapping against Sam in rough, fast little jabs and starts to feel the vortex of his orgasm coiling up in his balls. 

Fuck, Dean meant to be tender but he can't help it when Sam’s open and begging for him like this. Right now Dean doesn’t give a fuck about the angel inside of Sam, about God or Satan or whatever else might be watching them because this – being connected so deeply, buried inside of Sam made everything right again, even if the world was falling apart on the other side of their motel room door. 

“Fuck, Sammy. I’m –” Dean sobs as his orgasm takes him. Pleasure surges through his body, every nerve on fire in the best possible way. His muscles tense involuntarily as his consciousness shatters behind his eyelids like a thousand shards of stained glass. His lungs burn and he knows it’s because he’s shouting and moaning uncontrollably but he doesn’t have control of his body anymore. He just clings to Sam and lets the fire ripple through him as his heavy balls unload deep inside his brother’s ass.  
Sam’s a moaning, twitching mess beneath him, furiously stroking his cock and shoving his ass back into Dean’s hips as best he can at this angle. He’s snug and clenching around Dean as he brings himself off again, his load shooting in gorgeous, pearlescent arcs across the bedspread they never bothered to pull back. 

“Yes, fuck, Dean – aahhh!” Sam cries out as his second orgasm tears through him, even harder than the first. 

Dean watches him, transfixed. He knows Sam’s the center of everything in his universe, he’s always known, but in the trembling aftermath of this beautiful, soul-affirming act, Dean can really see his brother. All of Sam’s humble beauty, all of his flaws and cracks, Dean marvels at how they cross paths with his own deep fissures. How they fill one another up, smoothing over the gaps like only one another can. Dean’s body suddenly feels like it’s only being held upright by thin filaments and he slumps down over Sam, panting, his forehead resting against Sam’s shoulder. 

“Shit, Sammy, I’m sorry… Got a little… Carried away…” Dean huffs, his sweaty face rubbing absently over the smooth, taught skin of Sam’s arm. He holds Sam’s hip and pulls out slowly, eliciting breathy gasps from them both.

“Did it sound like I minded? Good call about the beds, by the way. This one’s a mess.” Sam chuckles, rubbing his hand soothingly over Dean’s sweaty back. It’s one of those soulful, honest laughs that he reserves just for Dean. The sound is like heaven in Dean’s ears and it’s another sign that he made the right choice, no matter the fallout. What’s important is that Sam’s still topside, pulling in breaths. He’s still laughing, and smiling, and alive in the real world. It’s all that Dean cares about and he knows he’ll be damned for it, surely, but his brother’s life is worth a thousand years in hell and Dean is ready to pay up, whenever the debt comes due. Even if it means Sam hates his fucking guts.

“How ‘bout that shower now, Dean?” Sam pushes Dean back a bit, kissing him softly. Dean held Sam’s eyes as their lips pressed together. Thankfully, there was no sign of the robotic passenger that was supposed to be knitting Sam back together. Dean sighed into the kiss, hoping Sam would interpret it as nothing more than fucked-out relief.

Dean knew the angel was a problem, a big one, but he’d tell Sammy over breakfast and they’d work this out. They always did. Dean would fix this and make it right, whatever it took. For now, he just wants Sam in his bed so he can finally have a decent night’s sleep.


End file.
